


dear valentine

by sunborn



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Valentine's Day, changbin suffers and im sorry, jisung is sad at first. but also very bi, waxing poetic about lee minho for 5k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunborn/pseuds/sunborn
Summary: jisung should’ve stayed in bed.at least, that’s what he thinks every time he leaves his bed, but it is to be said with much more emphasis this time. he really, really should’ve stayed in bed today. it is comfortable, perfectly accommodating of his shape, keeps him warm and safe and doesn’t judge any of his questionable life choices or existence in general. his bed is his best friend and chan and changbin lied when they insisted he needed to get out sometime before he grew roots in it. he absolutely should be growing roots in it. maybe he would be good at that, if nothing else. a real prodigy.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100
Collections: SKZ Seasons of Love





	dear valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SKZ_Seasons_of_Love](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SKZ_Seasons_of_Love) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Person A and Person B meet at an Anti-Valentines Day party. One is recently single and suffering heartbreak, the other just simply hates Valentines Day.

  


  


  


  


jisung should’ve stayed in bed.

at least, that’s what he thinks every time he leaves his bed, but it is to be said with much more emphasis this time. he really, really should’ve stayed in bed today. it is comfortable, perfectly accommodating of his shape, keeps him warm and safe and doesn’t judge any of his questionable life choices or existence in general. his bed is his best friend and chan and changbin lied when they insisted he needed to get out sometime before he grew roots in it. he absolutely should be growing roots in it. maybe he would be good at _that_ , if nothing else. a real prodigy.

_‘it’s not me, it’s you’_

jisung stares at the heart-shaped cookie in his hand, randomly picked out of a bowl of many other heart-shaped cookies with varying degrees of scalding or witty phrases on them. it’s a nice thought, but even the cookie is lying to him, and that makes jisung even sadder. it was him who couldn’t socialize well enough, who was awkward and quiet on dates, but too loud and silly with friends, who never knew how to behave right and how often to text back and how be a better boyfriend, and so now he’s single at chan’s anti valentine’s day party on valentine’s day and hasn’t talked to anyone besides exactly chan and changbin because he’s, oh yeah, awkward and quiet. and single. hyunjin, the traitor, who is not awkward and quiet, actually has a date and is probably enjoying himself doing some couple-y activities looking all cute and couple-y among all other cute couples swarming the streets tonight. because it’s valentine’s day, and they’re all happy about it, or something. 

above the counter there’s a banner hung across the cupboards with crossed out hearts and crossed out flowers and an image of cupid being impaled by arrows. everything about this is— sad.

jisung sighs, the saddest little exhale of breath he’s ever produced. “this is sad.”

“the glamorizing of death or the quality of the drawing?”

he almost flinches at the unfamiliar voice next to him that is— clearly not changbin. clearly changbin has abandoned him after getting his drink, and now jisung is left to fend for himself in what is bound to be awkward forced small talk with some guy—

“personally, i think it lacks realism. there’s no blood at all.”

jisung blinks at the sad fallen form of the cupid, black lines sticking out of him, processing the words. his mouth does a weird thing against his will, curves up a little bit into a weird lopsided shape. weird.

and oh, look. it’s not _some guy_ next to him when jisung turns his head, oh no, much worse. it’s a _hot guy_ , of all guys it could’ve possibly been. a hot guy to judge jisung’s sad little appearance, when hot guy himself has immaculately styled hair framing his immaculate cheekbones, immaculate nose sitting above immaculate plush lips, made perfect with an immaculate jawline. it’s not even a _hot guy_ , for christ’s sake. it’s some kind of— crawled straight out of a magazine freak of nature sculpted by gods unfairly beautiful being that honestly has no business witnessing jisung’s (almost) quarter life crisis, or, like, existing at all? huh, at least the soju’s apparently kicked in. where the hell do you get genes like that?

jisung realizes he’s scowling, jaw tight, when upsettingly gorgeous guy raises his hands in a defensive gesture.

“hey, that’s just my opinion, art is subjective after all.”

jisung wills his face to chill the fuck out about genetical unfairness. it’s not any one person’s fault, probably. it’s just how life is. unfair. jisung does think himself fairly good-looking, usually, but then again, he hadn’t ever seen someone like this before, which really puts things into perspective. was he left for someone looking like _that_? which, like, would still fucking suck, but—

“you didn’t draw that, did you?” stupidly beautiful guy turns his beautiful face back to the banner, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. it shows off his beautiful profile, so jisung follows his gaze to not have to see it. “it’s not bad. really captures the mood of the party.”

the cupid lies there, sadly, arrows sticking out into all directions.

a snort bursts out of jisung, and then a bit of laughter follows, and it feels weird in his chest and throat, almost not making it out. “doesn’t it?”

breathtaking guy shoots jisung a little smile, just a slight lift of the corner of his mouth. the bare minimum, and it’s breathtaking. or that’s the soju, too.

“but no, i didn’t draw that. i wouldn’t have forgotten the blood.”

scratch that, shit, _that_ is breathtaking— model guy turns his model face and his model mouth curves up more and he grins at jisung lopsidedly. is breath supposed to get stuck in your stomach? because something feels funny in jisung’s stomach, and that better _not_ be the soju, fuck.

“are those any good?”

jisung follows the pointed look down, at his hand. he’s still holding one of the not-valentine’s day cookies, that do look like valentine’s day cookies save for the sassy writing, the shape of hearts and bright pink frosting and all. he didn’t even try one before he got lost wallowing in his own self-pity, but honestly, it’s become a bit of a habit over the past weeks. he belatedly pops it into his mouth.

“nice texture, pretty sweet, if not a bit plain. 6 out of 10,” jisung offers after an expectant silence and then reaches for another cookie just to have something to do, the word _‘awkward’_ bouncing around in the back of his head. so what if he is? shit, he is.

“so changbin definitely didn’t make those,” the pretty guy jokes. he steps closer until he’s basically shoulder to shoulder with jisung, peering into the bowl of cookies. he tilts his head in thought before he picks one out that reads _‘i wish you were better’_ and puts it into his mouth. damn. his very pretty mouth, damn times two.

“you’re a friend of changbin?” jisung’s tone comes out a bit _too_ surprised, at least more than intended, but— seriously? where did changbin find someone like… that? and why are they friends? no shade, only curiosity.

“moreso of chan, but i’ve heard enough to know not to let changbin do anything in a kitchen.” he shakes his head in emphasis, soft hair moving along with the motion, eyes scanning over the rest of the finger-food and snacks in front of them. he doesn’t acknowledge the brush of their shoulders, or jisung’s stolen glances at his perfectly straight nose. chan, sure. that is less surprising, seeing as chan has the intriguing skill of _knowing everyone_. surely even celebrities would be included. “and you?”

“i’m friends with both. music production.”

technically, chan approached jisung first like the open and good hyung he is, during membership training in jisung’s first year. changbin was already part of the package, chan and him having met a year prior, and jisung somehow just fit right in. they’ve been a fixed part of his life for a year now, and even after chan graduated, nothing really changed. probably because he moved into changbin’s fancy family-supported apartment and still works on tracks with them, even after his work at the recording studio that hired him right out the gate. chan is… kind of amazing like that. jisung doesn’t have anything on him.

“chan made me a song for a showcase once, it was actually incredible.” the pretty stranger pouts as he thinks, already fuller upper lip becoming even more pronounced, pink and soft-looking. pretty. he takes jisung’s staring as a question and elaborates, “i’m a dancer.”

“oh.”

sure, cool. someone like that, knowing full well how to move their body. that’s good for him. nothing that makes jisung feel any particular feelings at all, none whatsoever.

maybe if jisung was a dancer, he’d be on a date tonight, like hyunjin is. is felix on a date, too? hyunjin didn’t say, but jisung hasn’t seen him here at least, so.

the dancer finally steps away from the buffet, warmth leaving jisung’s shoulder. jisung’s about 17 iterations into trying to find the right words for a casual kind-of-goodbye kind-of-maybe-see-you-around, hand restless on the edge of the counter, but then the guy picks up two six-packs of beer from where he initially stood and turns back to look right at jisung. he smiles kindly, prettily, motioning behind jisung with his head.

“oh! sorry.”

jisung steps away from the fridge, opening the door for the other who crouches down and starts refilling it. it takes a second, but then jisung follows to help, earning himself the ghost of a smile visible on that damned perfect profile. he’s offered one of the cold bottles when they’re done and takes it with a quiet thanks.

“are you jisung, by any chance?”

jisung freezes with the beer halfway to his mouth, blinking at the other. shit, what? had they met before? no way. no way jisung would forget someone ridiculously handsome like that. his face was burnt into jisung’s brain after the first glance, ready to haunt every moment of insecurity in front of the mirror from now on until forever. or something. so then?

“ah, uhm,” the dancer takes a while to open his own bottle, fingers hesitant around the neck. his gaze flickers over to jisung and briefly, what the hell, down and back up jisung’s body. “chan mentioned they’re three in his little group of geniuses, and i’ve met changbin before, and i heard _jisung_ is,” he takes a measured sip of his beer, adam’s apple bobbing, lips pursed looking for words, “i don’t know, you’re in music production, too, so i just wondered.”

“i am. jisung, i mean, that’s me. what did they say?”

the stranger’s posture seems to relax a bit and he shakes his head, searching for eye contact this time. “nothing bad, promise.” he reaches over to clink his bottle against jisung’s, still frozen in mid-air, offering a little smile. “i’m minho.”

jisung unfreezes, taking a swig of his beer to buy himself a second or two. _minho_. minho, who looks like an idol, who’s heard of him. he’ll annoy every detail out of chan and changbin next chance he gets, what the hell.

they’re not alone in the kitchen: a small group of what jisung thinks he remembers to be changbin’s friends, maybe, are talking among themselves over their claimed portions of fried chicken. in the other corner, next to the door, is a bespectacled guy either entirely absorbed by something very important on his phone, or trying very hard not to be spoken to by anyone. given the circumstances, in this room, jisung must’ve seemed _approachable_ on his own— or maybe kind of pitiful. maybe it was pity. talking taste in decoration and taste of baked goods with a sad stranger surely can’t be the goal of someone like _minho_. why he hasn’t left yet is a bit of a mystery. maybe he is that kind. maybe he’s a bit like chan in that way.

“it’s nice to meet you,” jisung finally says, gaze fixed on minho’s shoulder.

it’s kind of hard to look minho square in the eyes, for some reason. well, one reason being his intimidating beauty, but another being that he is so… warm, somehow. jisung’s spent maybe 10 minutes in minho’s presence and managed to hold small talk without it being an awkward mess. he laughed a bit, even, and it’s been a while. minho seems… genuine, and kind. he’s probably a sweet guy, and that’s great for him, amazing, it’s just that jisung is— very, very bi. even a bruised heart and bruised pride can acknowledge the effect minho has. it’s hard enough to talk to someone so pretty and sweet on a good day, but jisung hasn’t had any good days lately, and valentine’s day is somehow even worse, so— it’s honestly just a matter of time until jisung slips up and falls back into his self-deprecating spiral and says some dumb shit that ruins the mood and puts minho off. and minho is friends with chan and changbin, and sweet, and jisung would rather not be hated by him.

minho waits out the silence until jisung does look up, and his features are open and… soft. there’s softness to his eyes and the way his mouth moves, kind and genuine. “nice to meet you, too.”

he’s so sweet.

minho leans back against the counter, relaxed, kind eyes narrowing and lips curling in a specific way jisung can’t quite place. he tilts his head in the direction of the fridge, raising his bottle slightly—

“don’t tell them it was me or i’ll end you.”

he’s— huh.

something tugs at jisung’s lips, trying to pull them upwards, and maybe it’s the pull of familiarity in that tone that eases the tension in jisung’s gut. _sweet_ is something jisung has to be careful to be, but this comes to him without thinking.

he widens his eyes, pulling his mouth into the tiniest pout, just the way that gets him out of any and all scolding from chan, at all times. 90% of the time if it’s changbin.

“you would?”

minho blinks at him one, two, three times, taken aback. maybe jisung imagines it, but there’s a bit of an edge to his gaze and the curve of his mouth then— not in a bad way, just— a little goosebump-inducing. a little unexpected.

“you want to try me?”

his voice isn’t angry, or serious, or anything so clear-cut at all. it’s not— flirty, either, not quite. the glint in his eyes tempts jisung to push his luck, but really, he has no freaking idea who minho is, or how minho works, and people say jisung is either too quiet or too loud. well, he doesn’t feel like being too loud too fast, for now.

jisung holds minho’s gaze, pretending to zip his lips closed, and minho’s returning smile is easy, the widest he’s shown, prettier than all the grins before. his eyes curve, a bit like crescents. really, he’s so— effortlessly beautiful, leaning against the counter like it’s his own kitchen, or runway, jisung feels almost… offended. aggressively baffled? it’s weird.

minho just— looks good. he’s in all black, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, freaking _sweatpants_ , but on him it looks taken from some high-end fashion show, inherently different than what regular pieces of fabric can do to a person’s appearance, as far as jisung knows. it has to be some ridiculous expensive brand. do dancers earn that much? what the hell.

jisung’s sure he’s never looked that good in a shirt and sweatpants, or like, in anything ever, honestly. maybe if he had a better sense of fashion, or a prettier face, he wouldn’t be single. then he wouldn’t be here. why is minho here?

minho’s thoughtfully chewing his bottom lip when jisung chances a look, beer bottle getting emptier by the minute. jisung must look a bit restless himself, shifting his weight from one foot to another, then back. then again. minho doesn’t call him out on it.

“do you mind if i stick around?” minho asks.

 _why the hell would you want to_ , jisung doesn’t ask. “i don’t mind,” he says, as warmth spreads beneath his ribs at minho wanting to make sure, wanting to stick around; a funny tingling somewhere down his spine. it’s the beer and soju.

  


*

  


“why would you need expensive chocolates or flowers or whatever shit on a specific day to show your appreciation? if you’re together, isn’t that enough? shouldn’t you know you’re valued?”

minho, turns out, is at chan’s anti valentine’s day party on a valentine’s day because he, too, is single. but also because—

“valentine’s day is bullshit. marketing campaigns can’t tell you how to live your life.”

minho, too, does not like valentine’s day very much. even if on a much more general level, expressed with much more bluntness than jisung would use.

“but even if you’re together, you can have doubts, right? maybe you’re not sure.”

minho did, very obviously, stick around— and _sticking around_ , in this case, means being squeezed next to jisung on chan’s couch that comfortably fits three people but for the first hour of this discussion had five, which then dwindled down to three, and then settled on two, minho and jisung, still pressed together from shoulder to knee. jisung doesn’t mind skinship with friends, even if minho is barely a friend yet, but it’s convenient that making eye contact would be uncomfortable the way they’re sitting. it’s the small wins.

“why would you be with them if you’re not sure?”

minho has one arm slung over the back of the couch, kind of around jisung’s shoulders but not really, not touching, and a weird feeling runs down jisung’s spine when he thinks about it. well, they barely know each other, so that’s why.

“i mean, you could become unsure over time, if they never show it.”

jisung doesn’t particularly care for valentine’s day much, especially not this one, but something about it just gnaws at his insides, and with enough words, maybe he’ll get it out, whatever it is. maybe it has something to do with how self-assured and confident minho sounds in whatever he says, and how jisung only remembers not being sure about anything in his own relationships. whether it was his partner’s feelings for him, or his own ability to measure up to expectations. this year, too, he wasn’t enough.

“chocolates on valentine’s is the way the chocolate manufacturers want you to show it. there are tons of other ways, all throughout the year.”

minho wiggles his bottle of beer in what is meant to be a dismissive wave of his hand. they’ve had a couple since leaving the kitchen and more or less forcing their way onto the couch, and it was always minho who went to get more. he entrusted jisung with keeping his spot secure. jisung managed to snatch them a pack of foreign jellies out of chan’s full arms in passing, lying half empty on top of their touching thighs.

“it’s still a nice thought, and it can’t hurt? i don’t see what’s bad about it.”

“it’s not bad, but buying into it is stupid. it’s commercialism, but then you have people breaking up over not receiving a gift on a made-up holiday. that’s stupid.”

well, at least jisung wasn’t dumped for glossing over valentine’s, ha. well. apparently he hadn’t been good at all the previous challenges of picture-perfect dates and cute pda and couple items. he’d tried, but it never seemed enough, or not in the right way, not at the right time.

“but if one cares about it, shouldn’t the other try to adapt? to make them happy?”

this time, too, jisung thinks— well, maybe next time. next time he can try harder, and avoid all the mistakes, and be all around better at everything. he’s got to. it’s up to him to do that, right? it’s about improving yourself, or whatever. being better than before.

“shouldn’t both make an effort and compromises to make each other happy?”

minho says things like that so easily, and it sounds great, but jisung isn’t sure what to make of it. kind of like chan, and changbin sometimes, when they get all serious and soft with him. minho— isn’t that soft, on the outside. he’s got his edges, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all, in a way that jisung just has to look and listen in both awe and vague confusion. jisung was often told his edges were his flaw.

jisung finishes his bottle, and minho presses his thigh against him in question.

“i mean, i don’t know. sometimes i guess you’re just in the wrong and should do better.”

it’s— kind of the wrong thing to say, it’s the dumb shit jisung knew he would say at some point to kill the mood and he said it. the silence that follows is uncomfortable and tense and god, it was a conversation about a general thing and jisung’s just talking to himself, he can’t help it; minho’s words have a way of crawling under his skin and— it’s the truth, anyway, isn’t it? jisung was wrong and should do better.

there’s movement behind him, and then minho’s arm hesitantly settles around jisung’s shoulders, pulling him a fraction closer into minho’s side. jisung fiddles with his empty bottle, watching drops of condensation run down the colored glass.

“nobody’s wrong about their needs.” minho isn’t that soft, outwardly, but his voice is; lower than before, placed between them carefully but with conviction. “if they need you to bend yourself out of shape for them, you aren’t what they need at all. and they are not what you need, either.”

jisung refuses to acknowledge the sting in his eyes and how the words seep right into his bones, warmth so unexpected he struggles to inhale enough air. he’s not doing this, he isn’t, not on chan’s couch with a perfect stranger, accidentally baring his insecurities because he’s had one beer too much and his friends aren’t present to drag him out of this. and god, he’s especially not doing this in front of someone like minho, perfect face and perfect body and apparently also perfect self-esteem, wow.

minho holds out his own bottle as an offer, and jisung takes it to down whatever’s left in it.

“if they were right for you, you wouldn’t have to become someone else to get them to stay, don’t you think?” minho shakes them a little, gently, from side to side. “sometimes you’re not in the wrong at all. sometimes there’s nothing to be done about it.”

when jisung looks, minho’s gaze is far away, his jaw tight and the tiniest crease between his brows and, ah. maybe he’s talking to himself, too.

jisung lets himself study minho’s profile, just for a while; the shape of his eyes and the slope of his nose and the soft curve of his full upper lip; he’s objectively, physically _unfairly_ attractive and jisung will stand by his initial shock— well, not that he will ever let anyone find out— but god, his personality, too? he’s kind and empathetic and unapologetic about who he is, to a point that jisung wishes he could be like that, too. blunt, sure, but not rude.

minho blinks a few times and finally meets jisung’s eyes. jisung doesn’t shy away from it. he whispers a tiny little _thanks_ between them, and they’re so close that minho must hear it even among the conversations still going on around them and the pleasant background music filling the rest of the space.

jisung lets the moment drag, minho studying his face and parting his lips to say something back but then— he doesn’t. the arm around jisung’s shoulder shifts and then fingers tentatively touch jisung’s nape, setting off shivers down his spine—

minho ruffles his hair, _hard_ , not a single regard for all of— well, the 10 minutes jisung spent on them before he decided nobody was expecting him to look _good_ tonight, anyway.

jisung squawks, and minho just starts _giggling_. for christ’s sake.

“sunbae—”

minho runs his other hand through jisung’s hair, too, despite jisung’s attempts to simultaneously catch his wrists and wriggle out of reach, but there’s just nowhere to go. minho’s bright laughter rings in his ears, warm and pretty.

“hmm, mhm, yeah. that suits you.”

minho slows his chaos after destroying any and all semblance of purpose to the way jisung’s hair lay atop his head, but then he just chuckles lowly, no more than breath huffed through his nose, and starts rearranging it again. careful, careful, gentle fingers through jisung’s strands and jisung doesn’t want to say too much or he might break the weird spell. he steals a glance at minho, just one, but he gets caught again, minho’s eyes shining with mischief and much more jisung doesn’t know how to place yet, hand stopped at jisung’s nape, just holding. some words bubble up jisung’s throat, insistent—

“hey—”

“whoa, hey, what am i interrupting here?”

jisung flinches and the hand falls from his hair, warmth gone. changbin stares at them, eyes narrowed, giant pig plushie in his arms. where did that come from? who knows. chan appears behind changbin’s shoulder, less surprised, more subtly grinning in a very, very annoying way.

“i didn’t even know you knew each other.” changbin, the traitor, left jisung alone an eternity ago and hasn’t bothered to worry until now, so does he deserve to know about jisung’s life in his absence? does he, really?

“well, you abandoned me when i needed you most, so—”

minho’s arm wraps around jisung’s shoulders again, holding on firmly. it’s nice, he decides. even with the funny feeling it causes behind jisung’s ribs.

“so we’re best friends now, you’re unnecessary,” minho jokes, staring up at changbin, the perfect level of smugness coloring his gorgeous voice.

“i didn’t know you liked to cuddle yourself to sleep,” jisung nods at the pig.

“be careful it doesn’t squash you, it’s so much bigger than you,” minho bats his eyelashes, voice dripping with fake concern.

changbin gapes in horror, or disgust? as chan is trying not to laugh, but chan, too, is looking between them with surprise and _questions_ in eyes. hopefully, jisung can escape those. until forever.

“i don’t want you to know each other,” changbin declares, squeezing the plushie to his body defensively. “reverse this immediately, oh my god.”

jisung sticks his tongue out at him. minho does the same. changbin looks like he’s seeing about 20 years into the future from this very point onwards and is honest-to-god concerned for his wellbeing.

honest to god, though, honest to whomever— fuck what people think! for tonight, at least. minho giggles and shakes against jisung and jisung laughs and it’s so much easier than it’s been in quite a while.

  


*

  


minho insists on walking jisung home, hands and shoulders brushing as they don’t hurry at all, too many thoughts too fast for their mouths and they laugh a lot, it’s so easy, that’s weird. the night lights make minho’s face look even more ethereal and jisung wonders if minho knows, if people tell him all the time, if he’s so popular that he’s tired and if jisung acknowledges it he’ll just be one of thousands crashing in the waves, not making a splash. someone like minho— is there a word for how far out of one’s league someone is? jisung could make one up.

but then minho’s smile is so kind and his hand is so warm at the back of jisung’s head and it’s not wrong to want a hyung like that, right? to feel safe with someone stronger than him. it feels weird, so jisung doesn’t dwell on it— doesn’t dwell on the glint in minho’s eyes and the shadows his eyelashes cast and the tingling his touch leaves on jisung’s skin when he hands jisung’s phone back, with his number in it.

it’s a chance, maybe, an offer— nothing at all, minho insists, if jisung doesn’t want it to be. there are too many things jisung may theoretically want it to be. with time.

the pretty curve of minho’s smile stays burnt into jisung’s memory for a long, long while.

  


  


*

  


  


“i just mean— you don’t need expensive chocolates or whatever shit on a specific day to show your appreciation. if you’re together, you should trust they care, and that’s the most important.”

jisung nods sagely at hyunjin, waving the gummy worm in his hand around for emphasis before he remembers the objective and brings it up behind him, where minho pulls it out of his fingers with his mouth.

“it’s really not about bullshit superficial displays of love, it’s about being honest. whatever form that takes,” minho agrees as he’s chewing, chin moving atop jisung’s shoulder, voice heavy with wisdom. chan nods along solemnly.

“yeah, like, hyung kicks me out of bed into the freezing cold all the time and that’s cruel and i swear at him but i know it’s his way of showing love, right? he’s worried i might miss classes.”

“jisungie always texts me the most inappropriate shit during my breaks at work, and i sometimes think it’s concerning, but it’s his way of showing love, right? he worries i might lose energy and tries to make me laugh.”

jisung leans his full weight back into minho, and minho only tightens his arms around jisung’s waist, shaking them a little.

“hyung didn’t even buy me anything at all today, but i know he thinks of me all the time anyway.”

minho presses his nose into jisung’s neck, and jisung fishes another colored gummy worm out of the bag in his lap before he feeds it to minho.

“sungie just wanted to be boring and stay in bed today, but i know he wants me around all the time anyway.”

minho leaves a peck on jisung’s neck in appreciation and it tickles a bit, feather-light, drawing a giggle out of jisung. minho’s hand spreads across jisung’s stomach, thumb rubbing over the fabric of his shirt in a motion so gentle, the warmth spreads from there into all of jisung’s body, up into the tips of his ears.

“i can’t tell whether you’re trying to antagonize each other or everyone else on this planet but i beg you to stop. i can’t listen to this for one more minute.”

“you’re free to leave, actually.”

“bye, binnie hyung.”

changbin buries his face in his hands with a groan, hyunjin patting his shoulder in, what, sympathy? everyone’s just weak, is what. the sad impaled cupid banner hangs above them, back this year.

“no, _actually_ , why are you even here?” changbin glares at them in distaste from the other couch, obviously jealous of their exclusive claim on the soft loveseat that minho gifted— well, the apartment. chan and changbin can fight for it if they part ways. “ _here_ , on valentine’s day. at _our_ sacred anti valentine’s day party, where us singles just want to be at _peace_ , sullying everything around you with your,” he waves his hands around but it doesn’t really paint any picture at all, except that it looks a bit pitiful, and like much too high blood pressure, “whatever the hell you’re trying to pull.”

“what do you mean? we’re here, being anti valentine’s day. did you not listen?” jisung melts further into minho’s embrace, the warmth so tempting. calming. he’s very much at peace. minho nuzzles his nose into the soft skin below jisung’s jaw, gently, before placing a hot kiss to the spot with his perfect, unfair lips. “ah, hyung—”

“mhm, what he said. be quiet,” minho murmurs against jisung’s jaw, the breath on skin all electrifying, warm, making jisung shiver.

“i’m gonna throw up. i’m actually gonna—” someone makes a gagging noise, but someone also clearly bursts out in laughter, and ah, that’s chan. the vaguely pained groan might be hyunjin?

jisung turns his head towards minho and it makes it hard for him to kiss along jisung’s neck, but jisung appreciates the soft pecks to his cheek instead, too. warmth and fondness and joy pools somewhere below his chest and he wants to burst. “oh, hyung, you think we can make him?”

“sure we could, no question,” and it’s not much more than a breath against jisung’s ear, but minho’s voice overflows with the same kind of fondness jisung has been getting used to feeling taking root between his insides, steadily, over the last year. then it drops a little lower, tone a little teasing, “but i think you were right,” and his hands grip jisung’s waist with more intent, “maybe we should’ve stayed in bed.”

“you should have, you heathens, get out of here right now—”

there’s exaggerated disgusted yelling and a pillow hits jisung’s chest and giggles escape minho’s lips and dumb, silly, weird happiness bubbles up jisung’s throat, finally bursts from him in loud laughter as he throws his head back on minho’s shoulder, minho’s warmth all around him, under his skin, locked securely in his heart, at all times. he knows, and he knows that minho knows, too.

“let’s stay in bed tomorrow, yeah?”

“yeah.”

it’s enough.

  


  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm super rusty, and this is my first skz fic (hi) and i lost the plot the very moment jisung laid eyes on minho. i hope you could enjoy it, regardless. pls handle (me) with care ;;
> 
> come yell at me over at [twt](http://www.twitter.com/_sunborn) if u want, i don't have any stay friends... 🥲


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